


Not All Vigilantes Wear Hoods

by bYeFeliciaah



Category: The 100 (TV), clexa - Fandom
Genre: Agent lexa, Alliance, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Artist Clarke Griffin, Azgeda, Betrayal, Clexa, Confusion, F/F, Identity Reveal, Love, Mount Weather, Multi, Past Violence, Rivals, Slow Burn, Vigilante Clarke, wanheda
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2018-11-11 09:35:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11145741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bYeFeliciaah/pseuds/bYeFeliciaah
Summary: Not all vigilantes wear hoods...some dye their hair red.Wanheda, the notorious vigilante of Polis, continuously finds herself faced with the wrath of law. With her illegal methods of fighting crime; it's hard to escape authority. When Special Agent Woods is assigned to the case of the vigilante, Wanheda finds herself intrigued by the green-eyed beauty.Will there ever be any peace for the delinquent, or will she forever be faced with destruction? And will Woods ever see the woman behind the red hair?orIn which Clarke, the Art Professor falls for Lexa the agent, who doesn't know that the blonde is actually the woman she's trying to take down.





	1. Wanheda Wednesday

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first Clexa fic that I've posted on here, I don't have a solid idea of exactly what I want to happen just yet. This is a prologue I guess, a bit more like a chapter but we'll call it a prologue...enjoy.

> _All of my life been wadin' in  
>  Water so deep now we got to swim  
>  Wonder will it ever end_
> 
> -Newton Faulkner

 

### Wanheda Wednesday

 

The glass shattered like a pile of sand crumbling to the ground. It was like falling through empty space, with the threat of the ground beneath you. The air swarmed her, threatening to suffocate her as it filled up her lungs too quickly. How something that stops you from suffocating, makes you feel like you are, perplexed Clarke as she flew through the air like a paper airplane, or...a raven.

" _Wanheda, are you okay_?" Her voice was barely audible above the rushing wind, and Clarke could see the ground nearing. _Why didn't I just use the grappling hook_? She thought as she braced herself for the impact. Her neck jerked forwards and then backwards as she landed roughly on the ground, her arms taking the blow instead of her head but the rest of her body still feeling some of the pain as she rolled over and over. " _Wanheda_?"

Clarke groaned to herself, lying flat on her back and spreading her arms out beside her. "I'm alive, if that's what you're wondering." A sigh of relief came from her ear, and she smirked at her friends concern. The almighty Raven really did have a soft spot for the lives of her friends. She took a moment to collect herself before rising - Clarke really couldn't afford to be lying about with the forces hot on her heels.

She had landed on the neighboring building thankfully, though she didn't know where to go from there. She scanned her surroundings, trying to find a quick route away from the looming tower behind her. She saw what resembled a tight rope of stone, with slightly more width, leading towards the direction she had to go and decided to test her body coordination and balance. The wind brushed against Clarke's cheeks, her silhouette dancing across the roof of the building and her feet being placed carefully one in front of the other as she walked across what could possibly cause her death. She glanced at the far-off headlights of cars and vibrant store signs before focusing her attention back on the thin strip of rock she was balancing on, her heart skipping a few beats.Her shadow disappeared as she passed the light that once illuminated her, leaving her in the dark; something Clarke had learnt to live with.

There were distant sounds of sirens and shouts of worry, pushing Clarke to continue on. She could feel her body temperature rising significantly despite the chilly weather, and hated the erratic movement of her lungs as she struggled to get enough oxygen. Yet the heat of her cheeks and the clamminess of her hands didn't distract her as she balanced on the wall. The adrenaline was fading out of her system now, though her heart was still beating heavily in her chest. Despite the joy she got from what she did; it was a scary business - even if she was so calm and collected whilst doing it. " _Wanheda, hurry_."

Ravens voice coming from her earpiece startled Clarke, causing her to stumble slightly. " _Ravioli_ ," she hissed into the darkness of the night, "I nearly fell you idiot!"

" _Oops, sorry_." Clarke heard a quiet snicker in the background and scowled to herself. " _Well...you need to hurry. The bastards are on your tail_."

"Don't you think I'm trying to do that?" Clarke saw that the building was coming to its end, but noticed there was another a few metres apart from it. She started moving at a faster pace, her body flowing in sync with her feet as they desperately tried to cling onto the wall. She held her breath as she reached the edge; leaping into the air, stretching her legs out far and landing softly on the balls of her feet.

" _Head Eastwards, you'll lose them quickly. They're on the ground...tsk, disadvantage to them_ ," Raven laughed to herself, causing Clarke to wince at the loudness. " _I feel like such a badass_."

"I'm the one jumping across buildings," Clarke pointed out, doing as Raven suggested and turning East.

" _If it weren't for me, honey, then you wouldn't be jumping across said buildings right now_." Clarke rolled her eyes, shaking her head at the brunette and pushing herself onward. She felt her stamina weakening with each step she took. " _You can drop down onto a balcony below, stop up ahead_." Clarke took a look at her situation before perching on the edge of what she assumed was a hotel, turning her body around so that she could drop down safely. She pushed herself off the wall, landing almost silently onto the balcony.

"What next, genius?"

" _You work it out_." Clarke could hear the other girl chewing and knew that her interest was now on her food. She sighed to herself, scaling down the side of the balcony. Her ankles felt weak, and twisted each time she jumped onto a hard surface from a considerable height. But she didn't let that stop her from doing so anyway.

"Is this a hotel?"

" _No, it's a fucking cottage_." Clarke didn't have time for Ravens sarcastic remarks, she had just risked her life being cornered by the agents again. It had happened twice in the past month, and either Clarke's methods were becoming lousy or the Organization was progressing.

"It could've been an apartment complex," she muttered to herself, descending to the concrete ground and finding herself in a side alley. "Where now?"

" _How long have we been doing this, Clar- Wanheda...back here, I'm two blocks away_." One of their rules was to never speak a name that if heard could reveal their identities or the identities of others. Raven had trouble doing that sometimes but the blonde always remembered not to blurt a name or place. They could never be certain of who was listening. Clarke looked out onto the street, checking every direction before slipping out of the shadows and onto the sidewalk. She stuck to the wall, staying vigilant and aware of every sound or sight. Everybody in Polis knew of her by how, and she didn't want to risk being caught. Her distinctive red hair was something that wouldn't be missed, and her demeanor as a whole. Even her clothes, and the obvious fact that she was carrying weapons. Still; on she walked.

" _I swear you want to be arrested_ ," Raven spoke up again, presumably choking on her food as a series of coughs followed. " _Sorry, I swallowed a chip whole_."

"Nice," Clarke mumbled, pressing her back against the wall and scanning the next street. "Where are you Ravioli?" Her patience was dwindling, and she was sure that she had walked more than two blocks. "Ra-"

" _Clarke, hide right this minute_ ," Ravens voice came out urgent, and Clarke's heart picked up a pace as she looked around for a potential threat. " _What are you waiting for, the surveillance shows a patrol car right around the corner from you. Hide, now_!"

Clarke searched for somewhere to take cover, but couldn't find an effective spot. She settled for crouching beside a truck, hoping that the car would drive past quickly and nobody would decide to walk onto the street at that moment. She heard the vehicle as it made a turn, the engine loud and clear compared to the silence of the city. " _Is everything okay, Wanheda? I can't get site of you_."

"Everything's peachy," Clarke whispered back, contemplating actually crawling underneath the truck. She felt the vibration of the wheels on the road and knew that the patrol vehicle was only metres away from her.

" _They've nearly passed, just stay down for a while longer_ ," Raven assured, her voice void of any humor that she had before.

"I thought you couldn't see me?" Clarke grunted as she tried to shift the weight on her leg; starting to feel it cramp up. She stretched it out, being careful not to extend it too far in risk of being caught.

" _Well that's because you're hiding, you dipshit. I can see the car_ ," Raven deadpanned, her voice thick with mock.

"At least I'm good at hiding," Clarke sighed in relief when she spied the car turning the corner, giving her the freedom to stand again, "You also seem to be good at 'hide and seek', because I can't find you." Clarke looked up and down the street, continuing her walk in the direction she was going before the welcome interruption. The cold was beginning to seep through her clothes, cooling down her body slightly and making goosebumps rise up her arms even if they were covered. She was wearing three layers - on her torso alone - but it was late and the nights were cooling as September was coming to its end.

The hum of tyres startled Clarke again, and she looked around in panic. _Where to hide, where to hide_? She almost cried out at the sound of a deep voice, freezing on the spot. "Need a ride honey, you look lost?" Clarke rolled her eyes at the falseness of the voice, whipping her head around to find a familiar beat up, black van. Raven's head was sticking out of the window, her hand loosely on the steering wheel as she came to a stop beside Clarke. "Hop in, Shorty, we haven't got all night. I was thinking my place, but a secluded alley could work."

Clarke walked to the other side of the van and pulled open the door, punching Raven lightly on the shoulder. "Shut up you dork, and drive."

"Whatever you say, boss." Clarke leaned back in her seat, relieved that she could relax for a few minutes with the heater blowing out warm air towards her and the soft rumble of the engine calming her. "I wouldn't want to mess with a vigilante anyway."

Clarke frowned at the name but kept quiet, choosing to focus her attention on the blurred scenery out of her window. There still weren't many cars; even when they drove onto a usually busy road, and Clarke was glad. Although she was in a van, and it was safe to assume the windows were tinted - Raven's doing - she didn't want to risk somebody seeing her at a traffic light. "How was everything on your end?"

"We managed to get into their main frame, thanks to you...and they're definitely hiding something. If we had more time, I would've been able to get some more information," Raven exhaled sharply, the irritation dripping in her voice. She sounded pissed over the ear piece but Clarke was too busy trying to escape to take note of her friends annoyance. She suddenly remembered the other occupant of the van.

"Monty, are you good back there?" A head popped through the screen separating the back of the van to the front, an encouraged smile on his face. Clarke could see the variation of tech pouring light into the stuffy section her and Raven were sat in: computers, wires and gadgets she didn't even want to attempt to name. She did the fieldwork, they did the computer science.

"I'm good. How crazy was that exit, you should definitely do that more often," Monty smiled widely, referring to the jump through the window.

"Hmm, I'm not sure. I think I'll stick to using the equipment I have, saves the pain," Clarke reasoned, quirking an eyebrow as Monty shrugged, retreating back into his haven. "As we're on the subject of pain, I'm pretty sure I'll need a checkup." 

"You can do that yourself, right? Or do we need to call in Abby?" Raven glanced at Clarke in the rear-view mirror, a wary glint in her eyes. Clarke's jaw clenched noticeably as she turned towards Raven. 

"I don't think that's necessary," she said sharply, before turning back to look out of the window. Raven sighed, figuring that she should just shut up. No matter how many times she tried to talk of Clarke's mother; she knew each time it would fail. It hadn't always been that way of course, but ever since Jake...Raven cleared her head and looked at the road ahead.

The silence was nagging at Clarke as she thought about the nights events. The agency had been gaining on her of late, and she assumed it was down to how worn out she was. You can only have a certain amount of energy for one week, and Clarke was losing it. On top of her nighttime adventures; she had a life during the day. The best part was...nobody assumed a lawbreaker like Wanheda would be an art professor. A well known one too, and that wasn't just because of her appearances in the paper. It was because of the university she worked at, and her abilities as an artist. She didn't always want art as a career. She wanted to be a doctor once, to follow her mother. She could've been, but things changed and...there she was, pursuing art and teaching it. She enjoyed her job, a lot, she just needed something more. Even if that something risked her life almost every other night, and risked her potential for a steady future that wasn't in prison. "Clarke, you good?" Raven spoke up, her voice cautious as if Clarke could snap at the simple question.

"Yes," she nodded curtly, leaning her elbow against the side of the door and resting her head on her hand, "I'm fine." 

Raven watched the blonde curiously - though she had the illusion of red hair in that moment - pondering on whether or not to push the situation. "You did a good job tonight," Raven offered, smiling as the corners of her mouth successfully lifted - even if only slightly.

"You didn't do too bad yourself," Clarke winked, the tension dying down just as quickly as it came. 

"I know," she smirked cockily in return and Clarke rolled her eyes, even if she knew it was true. Raven was a hard worker and when she had her mind set; she could really get a job done. She was incredibly intelligent, and deserved to be proud of herself, which proved whenever they came out of a mission with it completed. It wasn't just Clarke doing the work - as it seemed to the outside world. Raven and Monty put in equal efforts despite their lack of credit. However, it was good that there was no evidence of Wanheda having help. It lessened the chances of them being caught as they were looking out for only one person.

The rest of the journey continued on quietly, the occasional comment from Monty in the back or Ravens attempts at starting a conversation. But Clarke was exhausted and couldn't wait to be greeted by her bed. She winced when the van came to an abrupt stop, her arm knocking against her seat belt. She knew she had injured it somehow, but decided it'd be best to check on it when she was home. Although they had medical equipment and first aid kits in the back; they were saved for emergencies...a tiny cut from glass or a bruise from her fall was nothing to fret about. After another ten minutes; Raven pulled up in front of Clarke's apartment complex, eyeing her with that same look from earlier. "Do you want me to come in, check for any wounds?" She nodded towards the way Clarke was holding her arm; stiff and close to her chest. 

"I'll be fine, Raven. Just...get home safely," Clarke mustered a smile, conveying her assurance through her eyes. "I'll see you later Monty." She heard a muffled response, opening her door and shutting it softly.

"Wait, Clarke." The window rolled down as Raven leaned out of it. "Come to the Dropship tomorrow so we can discuss Fridays plans. Sound good?" 

"Uh, yeah." She gave a slight wave as she headed towards her home, aware of Ravens lack of movement as she unlocked the entrance door. She rolled her eyes again, closing it behind her without looking back and making her way up the stairs. She didn't have the patience to take the elevator and her apartment wasn't too many floors up. It was a small complex, how Clarke liked it considering she didn't want anybody to see her in her ' _Wanheda_ gear'. 

She eventually reached her door, going through the slow process of opening it and slipping off her boots. She switched on the light, watching as the room lit up and squinting her eyes at the brightness. Despite the emptiness of the apartment, the furniture was modern and neat - the design looking like something fresh out of a magazine. Clarke wasn't short of money and wasn't afraid to show that through her living space. Not that many people did see it, the exception of the few friends she had and...well, she hadn't seen much of her mother lately, despite Abby's efforts. She made her way to the kitchen area, pouring herself a glass of water and draining it in one go. _Maybe next time I should carry a sports bottle with me._ She thought bitterly, the dryness of her lips lessening slightly. Then she moved towards her bedroom, sighing at the familiar sight of her bed. The soft colors of beige and brown, so welcoming. Clarke peeled off the top layers of her clothing, feeling the stickiness of her back from sweat and trudged towards her ensuite.

She sat down on the bathroom side, carefully taking off her t-shirt. She couldn't get it over her head, so instead slipped it off her arms softly and pushed it down towards her hips. Her arm was throbbing - exposed to the air - and Clarke looked down to see a deep gash stretching from her wrist, almost to her elbow. There was dried blood covering the majority of her forearm, save for the actual cut which had thick, red liquid threatening to ooze out of it. The adrenaline coursing through her body must've numbed the initial pain, she assumed she had grazed it against some glass when she first jumped from the window. Graze was an understatement, slashed sounded like a more fitting word to use. 

She opened the mirrored cabinet, not missing the mess of her hair - darker than the dried blood around her arm - and the line of sweat on her forehead. She reached for the small bottle of alcohol with her good arm, twisting off the lid with her teeth, then putting some fabric in her mouth and biting down on it. She slowly poured some of the clear liquid onto her cut, hissing in pain and hitting her head against the wall. Damn agents. After stitching it up and wrapping it in a thick gauze, she dropped the rest of her clothes and stepped into the shower, keeping her left arm on the other side of the shower curtain. 

 

\---

 

The morning brought stress and pain to Clarke as she shuffled around her bedroom. Her arm - although not the biggest injury she had sustained under the name of Wanheda - causing discomfort. She didn't bother changing the bandage before she left for work, she barely had time to get dressed. She had a lecture and a practical lesson that morning and couldn't start her day without a coffee. The traffic delayed her even more, but she didn't expect anything less at rush-hour. She watched people on the street; clutching bags and coffee cups, hurrying through the crowd. She wished she was out in the fresh air but settled on opening the window slightly, causing her hair to brush against her neck in a dance every time the car moved. Her phone buzzed in the compartment near the handbrake, signalling a message from Raven. 

She picked up the device as she wasn't moving anytime soon, reading through the text displayed on her lock screen. " _Hey Griff, be at the Dropship for 8_." She typed a quick reply, saying that she'll be there before putting her phone back in its cosy spot. She reached work eventually, and the day dragged out slower than usual. She enjoyed her classes, she found she had a connection with her students and whether that was because of their respect for her or their common interests in the beauty of art. She always started the lessons with a wide smile on her face. Unless of course she was in a naturally bad mood, though she usually cheered up when she got into her world of color, texture and tone. Art was Clarke's passion and soul, she saw it everywhere - in the simplest of things. Heck, even her life was a piece of art that Clarke was inclined to paint and sketch. 

At seven fifty-seven in the evening, Clarke was faced with the huge building reading: 'Sinclair Industries', sighing at the beauty of it. Raven started as a mechanical engineer, barely scraping past minimum wage. Sinclair happened to notice her abilities - a well known man that ran his own company - and gave her a job that not only had a higher wage but a a higher position of work. She worked her way up and up, and when Sinclair passed, she was named CEO of the company, a big one at that. A lot of people knew her and Clarke felt a swell of pride as she walked inside, familiarized with the layout and where she had to go. She walked to the front desk, nodding at the receptionist in greeting. "Could you tell Raven that I'm here?"

"No problem, Clarke." The woman smiled politely, eyeing her for a second longer before bringing the phone to her ear. Clarke let her eyes roam the interior of the building, noticing how modern and state of the art everything looked. Raven had achieved a lot, Clarke was surprised she hadn't won a Nobel Peace Prize. 

The walls reflected against the light coming through the glass windows - a pattern of blue and purple. The floor was tiled black and white and the ceiling was higher than Clarke could've imagined. There were a few fancy statues and plants dotted around the entrance of the ground floor - well what everybody assumed was the ground floor. The lowest floor was evidently...lower than this. Clarke turned towards the desk, watching the movement of the woman's hands as she typed something into the computer. She hesitated before speaking up, "You're working quite late tonight, aren't you?" 

"Mondays and Thursdays are my late days," she responded softly, her eyes never leaving Clarke's own. She had forgotten how calming her voice was.

"How's the store?" She wasn't just making conversation, she wondered how the woman was getting on. They hadn't spoken for a while, and Clarke somewhat missed their talks. 

"It's running smoothly, I managed to get some more staff to-" 

"Hey, Clarkey!" The blonde turned her head towards the elevator, seeing Raven step out of it with her signature limp. She wanted to scowl at the interruption; Raven's smug look told her that she knew exactly what she was doing. She looked happy though, so Clarke brushed it off.

"Raven," she regarded her with a small smile, glancing at the elevator and back. "I'll, um...I'll see you later, Niylah." She looked awkwardly at the woman behind her, giving her a wave in return to her nod. She followed the brunette into the elevator, watching her as she found the hidden button that would lead them down to the Dropship.

"Jumping back into that boat?" Raven smirked, leaning against the wall as they started to descend. 

"I'm not _jumping_ into any boat," Clarke huffed, giving Raven a cold stare, "We were just talking." 

"I don't want a member of my staff off task, and isn't it the boss who's meant to hookup with the hot receptionist?" Raven joked, a playful glint in her eyes. 

"We didn't just hookup, Raven. She only became your receptionist to help you out, she was doing perfectly fine for business with her store." Clarke looked disapprovingly at the girl beside her, shaking her head at her comments. Raven wasn't sure why she hired Niylah in the first place. She could've found anybody to work for Sinclair Industries in minutes, and Niylah wasn't in need of a job. Why she _stayed_ working for Raven was something she did know. 

"So why do you think she's still here?" She quirked an eyebrow, nudging Clarke with her shoulder. 

"Because she's a kind person." It seemed somewhat like she was convincing herself, reluctant to believe that Niylah still had feelings for her. If there even were any before. Their relationship was short and revolved mainly around sex...surely she wasn't as interested as Raven was making her seem. 

"No, Clarke. She stayed because of you," the reply slipped out of Ravens mouth smoothly, as if she had put a lot thought into it. 

"Niylah isn't that kind of person, Raven. She doesn't wait for anybody and she certainly doesn't pine." 

"If you're sure. I'd say she could make a few exceptions for a certain blonde...but who am I to have an opinion on such matters?" The elevator came to a halt, stopping their conversation as well as their train of thought. The metal doors opened, revealing a rundown room, compared to the building above. The walls were dark, the ceiling lying low with a ladder going up to a hatch. Downstairs was for the technology...where the hacking, tracking and mapping was made. They had named it the Dropship because of the spacey feel to it, of course it was Ravens idea. 

The hatch led to a training area for Clarke, where she'd work on her self defence, agility, balance and strength. Raven often helped, learning a few things for herself. Clarke was trained by a professional in her late teens, her father wanted to ensure his daughters safety in the world of ruin they were living in. Of course Abigail objected, but there wasn't much she could do. Clarke had a fierceness and determination that couldn't be put out by a simple splash of water...it was the tidal wave that led her to stop altogether, leaving her in a state of depression and sadness. 

The pain of his death was something Clarke couldn't cope with...it haunted her when she slept, when she simply walked out the door, when she blinked for a split second. Her fathers face only a shadow in her mind, causing destruction and delusion. She wanted to believe she had turned her life around with a steady job and healthy relationships with friends, but in truth; it didn't do justice. She needed something more to keep her grounded, and the ghost of the warm yet courageous man she once loved pushed her to take the lack of justice to those who brought violence and chaos to Polis - into her own hands. 

"Good evening ladies." A chirpy voice arose from the back of the room, and Monty came into view, stepping away from a keyboard that he was vigorously typing on. "Let's get down to business." 

_Wanheda_ was not going to back down...not when the city needed her, not when the city needed them.


	2. Who Cares For The Laiks Of Pike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Lexa stresses over Wanheda and Anya dislikes hospitals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the Kudos and comments in the previous chapter - I really appreciate them. Expect s's instead of Z's sometimes, and I hope you enjoy because I enjoyed writing it...bye for now I guess ;)

> _I have come to believe that caring for myself is not self indulgent._
> 
> __
> 
> __
> 
> _Caring for myself is an act of survival_.
> 
> \- Audre Lorde 

 

### Who Cares For The Laiks Of Pike

 

Lexa sighed to herself, glancing between the television hovering over the counter, and the counter itself. She listened to the ramble of the news reporter, waiting patiently for her morning coffee. " _Wanheda - otherwise known as Sky Girl - struck again last night in the centre of the city. Only minimal citizens were harmed, though the building named 'Weather Tech' was broken into and_  
_-"_

Lexa tuned out the sound of her consistent voice, already knowing the events that took place. Most of the information they sold was vague and held no detail, but lately they had been thriving with facts and answers to the city's worry. "Lexa." She nodded her head thankfully at the cashier, taking the drink placed in front of her and walking out of the cafe. She sipped slowly on the swirl of black, wincing as the liquid scolded her tongue but rejoicing in the taste. She squinted her eyes up at the sun, feeling the humid air start to seep into her clothes and cause discomfort already.

Just yesterday, Lexa was assigned to the case of _Wanheda_ in replacement of Anya. She had been almost a mentor to Lexa - sister even, helping her train and become the best agent she could be. They had always had a great relationship, as did their families who had known each other for a long time before even they were born.

Anya was harmed by the delinquent herself and wouldn't recover for a long time. She was a brilliant agent and Lexa felt that the weight of the city was on her shoulders. How could she stop the red-headed whirlwind? She was wreaking havoc, causing chaos. In no way was she helping the law like she believed, but breaking it. Her actions couldn't be justified; she had to be stopped, whether that was with cuffs or a bullet to the shoulder.

She knew she sounded harsh, but _Wanheda_ had been terrorising Polis for months - eight actually. Lexa's life was dedicated to her career, she had always wanted to be an agent, ever since she was young. She took self defence classes from the age of eleven and was obsessed with fitness and sport. Her family had a background of martial arts and business; it was only natural for Lexa to follow. She had been a special agent for two years, had trained for much longer. It was easy for Lexa to get lost in her work and so caught up to the extent that she missed meals, but she liked it that way. She _loved_ her job, and she didn't want that to change

Lexa was an agent of the Confidential Organization of Investigations (a modernized version) - otherwise known as Trikru. It was a strange name, derived from an ancient language that few knew. It was used as a way to communicate without the risk of people picking up on their words...but that tradition had long disappeared. She had learnt the language, as did many of the people she worked with, but the head of her division didn't agree with anything to do with the ancestry of Trikru. He believed they were barbaric and inhumane - something he strived to lose, opposed to the recent leader who tried to maintain the old ways of the COI.

Trikru had gotten almost nowhere in their analysis of _Wanheda_ apart from a vague appearance and the patterns of her attacks _._ She was 5'5", slim, had red hair and light eyes. Nobody had inspected them for long enough to know the exact color. She made an appearance usually twice a week, sometimes three...although Lexa had never faced her before.

She stayed high and hidden from people until the actual ambush happened and then it was too late. S _ky Girl_ was a fitting name, for her vantage points away from the eyes of others, usually atop buildings, a shadow in the black of night. She blended with the sky, her body language was her camouflage and her fluidity her armor. She could disappear in seconds and the technology she used was a big part in that. They still didn't know exactly what she used, apart from the weapons she had in hand. Lexa vowed that she would find out after stopping her as soon as she was given charge of the case.

Her phone buzzing in her pocket distracted her from the busy street as she took it out to view who was ringing. Work, of course. "Woods." A deep voice came through the speaker, regarding Lexa by her last name. "We may have a lead on where _Wanheda_ will be attacking tomorrow night."

"Great, I'll be right there," she responded, making her way through the crowd. She wasn't far from her work place and it seemed stupid to drive through the amount of traffic there was today; so she continued on walking.

"See you then, Special Agent Woods." The line ended, giving Lexa the freedom to move her arms about so that she could push past the masses of people. She sped up her pace, barely looking at her surroundings but aware enough to know where people were and where not to walk. She drank her coffee absentmindedly, running through everything in her head.

 _Wanheda_ hit Weather Tech last night and left just as quickly. _What did she do?_ Investigations had shown she broke into their files, but she left barely any other trace. Apart from the broken window where she made her exit. Dante Wallace was the best option they had for answers, or his son. Lexa didn't know much about Weather Tech. Except for their reputation of fraud and the trouble they had put Trikru through. She didn't know how much she could rely on them on information about _Wanheda's_ sudden interest in them, so she kept that idea...simply an _idea_.

She eventually reached the building she walked into almost everyday of the week, and sighed when the air conditioner wafted a cold yet controlled breeze towards her as she strolled through the door. Security nodded their heads in respect - knowing her face well - and let her through with a polite smile.

It wasn't long before Lexa was in the elevator and then out again on the thirteenth floor, heading towards her unit. She walked into a room, being greeted by Agent Pike. He was the head of Lexa's division, and the one who called her. Lexa respected him, not just out of obligation but because of his tactics and good use of authority. She took a seat close to the front of the room, most of the agents called forth were there already so she didn't have to wait long.

Pike stood by a sizeable board with evidence and information on _Wanheda's_ attacks, looking out across the room. "Okay, so... _Sky Girl,_ " he trailed off, scanning his eyes across each individual and tapping against the board, "Or _Wanheda_ , whatever you want to call her. She has been targeting the citizens of Polis for a long time now and yet; we haven't found a pattern in her... _adventures_."

"With all due respect, Sir, I don't think she has a pattern. She causes trouble, that's her deal." A voice spoke out not far from Lexa, and she recognised it to be Agent Dax - a man she found she didn't trust. Whether it was her lack of knowledge on him or that he always spoke out during meetings. A lot of the stuff he said was profound; suggesting ridiculous ways to catch criminals or supporting the use of rocket launchers.

"That may be true, but there has been a reoccurring theme for the last few weeks," he turned towards the board, pointing to a picture of _Wanheda_ , "this was last night's attack at Mount Weather. The time before that, she targeted an employee by the name of Maya; who works for Mount Weather.

"The time before _that_ , she tried to make a direct attack on the CEO of...guess what, Weather Tech - Dante Wallace." Lexa raised an eyebrow in surprise, watching as Pike stared at the board for a while longer. Mount Weather was a name given to the company for their success and the fact that their company's main building was huge. They usually referred to the company as Mount Weather; and the staff as 'Mountain Men', or 'Weather Men'. The term 'men' not associated with the sex of the person but rather 'a being'. Something similar to mankind.

"So, what you're suggesting is that she could make a Mount Weather related attack tomorrow night?" Lexa inferred, crossing her right leg over the other.

"Exactly that." He looked across the room, letting the agents take in the information. "We'll send a team of agents into Weather tomorrow. Woods, you'll lead them. We'll have you secure the perimeter and patrol the building on all floors."

Lexa nodded her head, smiling slightly with the position she was given. Pike went through some more of the plan, before holding her back to work on some stuff with him. Lexa had been helping Pike for a long time now, some would say she had already been leading the _Wanheda_ case; but from the office. Now she truly had the time to shine, despite her knowledge and good use of strategy when helping run the case from a seat, she now could show her strengths on the field.

Lexa had never felt like she had to prove herself, but now she did. Anya had come close to catching _Wanheda_ and Lexa had a lot to work up to. " _Wanheda_ is fierce. She has taken out over three hundred of our agents...with a stick and her fists. And those damn arrows, who even uses a bow and arrow nowadays?"

"I didn't know she had gotten over _three hundred_ of our agents." Lexa was shocked, there had been numerous times that the organization had made contact with _Wanheda,_ but three hundred seemed like a ridiculous number.

"Although she didn't kill each of them, they were injured quite badly. Save for the ones that fell to a single hit on the head; they avoided being majorly harmed. It was the ones who put up a fight that came out the worst." He walked around the table as he spoke, glancing to Lexa every once in a while. "You're one of our best agents in this division, Woods. I hope I can count on you to bring _Wanheda_ down to the ground and end her criminal reign over Polis."

"I will try with every fibre of my being, Sir, and she will face justice." Lexa clenched her fists by her sides, the determination to stop this woman was really settling deep inside her bones.

"I don't doubt that, Woods. Your parents would be proud." He continued talking about the plan more thoroughly, making sure to cover every detail. Lexa listened, adding her own input occasionally but otherwise staying silent. She left the office feeling more prepared to take down _Wanheda_ than she had with any other case.

The COI wasn't a well known agency and out of reach of the government. Although a lot of the other forces knew about them, they never cooperated. Trikru was a name given to the organization when it formed _years_ before, they started off as a group of people with spears and swords, running about the woods and looking for danger. They had come a long way; considering they were the most effective force in Polis, and the rest of the country for that matter. For a time the organization had a ruthless way about them, but Pike had changed that - resorting to the normal rules of imprisonment rather than torture and death.

Lexa had the day off, and visiting Anya seemed the appropriate thing to do. It wasn't often she had a day of rest, usually being cooped up in the office sorting through papers or helping Pike with investigations. She hadn't been on the field for a good couple of months, and although she was nervous - the excitement for tomorrow night was prominent.

As for Anya; she wouldn't be doing another mission for a while. She had been leading the case of _Wanheda_ for as long as Lexa remembered. Though sometimes it felt like Pike was, he was the head of the division though and that was his job. Everything was run by him, else it wasn't run at all.

The incident that hospitalised Anya happened the week before. Her and a group of agents had rushed to the scene _Wanheda_ was thought to be when reports of violence came through. They had found three men with their arms tied behind their backs, arrows through each of their legs - the left ones to be exact - in an abandoned warehouse. One of the agents caught a glimpse of red and fired, the rest followed and all hell broke loose.

Anya spotted _Wanheda_ but was too late, the red-head jumped out from behind a metal container, firing arrows at each of the agents in turn. Apparently _Wanheda_ barely used her bow, sticking to the Bō staff she wielded with such precision, but this was an exception. She pierced through their hands to stop the gunfire, and left Anya unharmed (supposedly because she wasn't shooting crazily at the air).

Instead of letting _Wanheda_ leave the scene, Anya put up a fight. She almost had her - she told Lexa - but _Sky Girls_ reputation preceded her and long story short...she kicked Anya's ass. Well technically, she kicked her stomach a couple of times, after knocking her about with her 'stick'.

Anya didn't give up so easily and _Wanheda_ didn't escape without at least a couple of bruises, even if Anya faced the worst of it. She chased the red-head up some stairs and then...was thrown back down to the ground when she got to the top. She ended up with two broken ribs, a collapsed lung and a broken ankle. She was out for three days straight with significant blood loss from a wound inflicted by an arrow to the leg, and if _Wanheda_ had caused anymore damage to the agent, she may not have made it. Thankfully; the paramedics arrived quite quickly, allowing Anya to be rushed to the hospital.

Lexa made her way back to her apartment, having left her car outside as the cafe wasn't far. The sidewalk had cleared up a bit, giving her space to walk freely without bumping into a person every step she took. The air had thinned out a bit, leaving room for a slight breeze. There were a few clouds in the sky - white and clear of rain - covering the patterns of blue. Lexa liked the sky, she always had...whether it was the color or the mysteries it held; she had always been intrigued with the wide expanse of emptiness.

She spotted her roommates car, and then her own in a space next to it. Lincoln hadn't lived with Lexa for long, he moved from TonDC in the hopes of finding a job and settling down - asking to crash at Lexa's for a while. She didn't mind, she enjoyed his company sometimes; she found that living alone proved to be quite...lonely, and it was nice to have somebody to talk to once in a while. Lexa snapped out of her constant train of thought, scolding herself on her lack of concentration.

Once she was in her car, she set out for the hospital, winding down her window and taking a deep breath of air. She was glad to be in the car, rather than on the street where the crowds of people swarmed her and forced her to make herself seem smaller. She walked with confidence, her arms and legs taking up space, but when there were a lot of people; she couldn't do that. The hospital wasn't too far from where she was but she didn't fancy walking as there wasn't a direct route - instead a large amount of main roads and awkward pathways.

Lexa didn't think Anya would be too pleased with visitors, although she would make an exception for her brunette partner in crime (literally) and lifelong friend. She didn't know anything about opening hours, it was only ten and she wasn't exactly a family member - she could lie, however she was still anxious about being turned down and forced back to her empty apartment.

When she arrived at her destination, she found a parking spot that wasn't too far from the main entrance and made her way towards Anya's room. She knew which wing she was in as she'd visited her before, presuming she hadn't been moved in the space of a day. Nobody stopped her as she navigated her way to the right door, quietly opening it to see Anya fussing about on the side of the bed - trying to pull out her IV. "That's not going to solve anything," Lexa spoke up, startling the woman attempting to remove the plastic tube from her arm.

"I want to get out of this damn hospital. It's been _seven_ days, I should be allowed to leave by now," she muttered to herself, successfully ripping out the IV, leaving a trail of blood on her arm.

"Anya!" Lexa scolded as the woman tried to stand from the bed, gripping the side and balancing on one leg. Her other was trapped in a cast surrounding her ankle, forcing her to leave it hovering above the ground. Lexa directed her back onto the bed, pushing her into a lying position and buzzing the nurses for help.

"Traitor," she murmured under her breath, getting comfortable on the small mattress. Lexa chuckled quietly, rolling her eyes at her stupidity. The nurses came into the room and hooked Anya back onto the drip - to the woman's annoyance - stopping the tiny amount of blood coming from her forearm. After the nurses had left, Lexa sat on the bottom of the bed, flitting her eyes across the room and taking in the plain design. Everything about the room was...ordinary, too ordinary. Order was something Lexa knew entirely, something that Lexa followed and strived for. Without order there was chaos, and chaos was never good. _Ever_.

"You could at least be happy to see me," Lexa said eventually, giving Anya a slight smile.

"I'd be happy if we were in a different setting," Anya remarked, sitting up with a straight back and chin raised.

"You need to recover," the younger woman reminded, a warm energy about her that barely anybody witnessed. When Lexa was away from her family and friends, she tended to come across as cold and guarded - the latter a better description to use. She wasn't necessarily cold, she just found that she didn't trust people if she didn't know them and it's hard to act warmly towards somebody you don't trust.

"I have recovered, I'm just ready to get out of here," Anya huffed, a mixture of irritation and a slight playful glint in her eyes. "You could take my place?"

"I believe that's not how hospitals work."

"Stop acting so...professional. You're here to see your sister, not your colleague." Anya joked, a smirk painted on her face with the familiar mock etched into the corners of her lips.

"You're hardly my colleague, if I recall correctly; I'm in a slightly higher level of work." Lexa wasn't trying to poke at her for having a higher status, after all Anya was older and had taught Lexa all of the skills she knew. If it wasn't for Anya, Lexa doubted she would've come this far with her career.

" _Slightly_ higher? You may as well run the place," she laughed, throwing a wink in Lexa's direction, "Pike should definitely quit, most of the people respect you more than him - it would make sense for you to take over."

Anya was _not_ fond of Pike. Whether it was him as a person or the methods of his work - Lexa didn't know, all she knew was that her dislike for him was strong. "Yeah, well...I don't."

A moment of silence followed before Anya spoke up again, a hint of playfulness in her voice. "So, taking on the mighty _Wanheda_ now, are we?"

"It seems I am," she nodded in response, the lift of her eyebrows an indication that she knew where the older woman was going with this.

"Be on guard at all times, Lex, keep your eyes focused on her body language; predict her next move...let her take the first strike if it comes to it and use that to your advantage, " Anya started, a lecture long overdue for the amount of time Lexa was there, a sudden seriousness about her voice. "She's strongest on her right, and beware of the weapons she uses. Although a stick of wood doesn't seem powerful, she knows how to make it so."

Lexa took note of everything, knowing that with Anya's experience; it was best to take her advice. She showed a sign of acknowledgement with each new point, appreciating the concern of the stoic woman she usually saw. Even with Lexa, Anya held back slightly, though she was usually more relaxed with her and could at least laugh a genuine laugh.

The two spoke for a long time, exchanging jokes and talking over _Wanheda's_ strategies. Lexa had to be prepared both mentally and physically for the next night and couldn't afford to be slacking. If the redhead was as proficient as Anya had described; then Lexa had to be a step up. Her thought process couldn't waver and neither could her defence. "She jumped onto you?" She asked in disbelief, her tone of voice slightly higher _._

"From out of nowhere," Anya confirmed, explaining the time she was almost killed by _Wanheda._

"What hap _-_ " Lexa was interrupted by the door opening, revealing a well-built, dark woman dressed in, surprisingly to Lexa, casual clothes. She neared the two, standing at the side of the bed with a hard expression on her face. 

"Agent Woods," she nodded at the green eyed girl, sat awkwardly beside Anya's legs with her arms supporting her weight. She rose abruptly, straitening out her clothes. 

"Indra," she greeted back, outstretching her arm so that the woman could shake it. They had a strange relationship - purely professional, but somehow they cared for one another. Although Indra didn't show it, she was proud of Lexa. Having known her parents, and the younger girl for most of her life - she had seen her evolve into the agent she was. A great agent at that. "I can head off, give you two some time to talk."

Indra gave a slight smile of appreciation before returning to her usual hard demeanor, watching as Anya and Lexa said their goodbyes. 

Lexa stepped outside eventually, glancing up at the sun - high above her head - and sauntering over to her car. She had the day ahead of her yet couldn't think of a thing to do but walk through the plan for the next night to herself. She didn't suspect Lincoln would be home and her patience for chatting was long gone now. She came to the conclusion that she'd go for a run. To clear her head or to simply add more thoughts to it, she just needed to do _something._

As she ran she thought of the emerald, green eyes of her mother, and her words. _'Never left your fear control your emotions, sweet one.'_ She would say after a childish nightmare, or when the butterflies in Lexa's stomach would arise for a school presentation, or when she had an exam she was desperate to pass. _'You embrace your fear and you use it as your strength.'_

Her father taught her to simply not feel. And she was torn between the two as the pushed her feet to move onward and her lungs to grab for air. 

 


	3. Heda On Down To Floor Seventy-Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Clarke has a disturbing dream and Lexa finally meets Wanheda. There's also a very strange alliteration 'slacking slightly' ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, this was a bit of a slower update as I hadn't written anything beforehand (I actually decided to add Wanheda Wednesday after I had written half of Who Cares For The Laiks Of Pike). I didn't have a solid plan either, but enjoy...and sorry for any mistakes, comment if i completely mess something up and watch out for u's. I also feel like there are two spaces instead of one for some things, but, oh well.

 

> ' _People who are powerless make an open theater of violence._ '
> 
> -Don DeLillo

 

#### Heda On Down To Floor Seventy-Nine

 

_The floors were painted crimson. The ocean of blood rising slowly, threatening to suffocate Clarke as she stood in the corner of a familiar room. The waves of red lapped against her waist as she tried to melt into the wall, cowering away from the heads of the dead._

_Everybody she once loved floated in the pool of death, taunting her; their eyes screaming anger and vengeance. They surrounded her, forcing fear into each and every vein and trapping her in in the grey room she once despised. A voice that was all too familiar found it's way to Clarke's ears...or into her head. 'It's your fault. You did this. It's your fault.' The mocking words repeated over and over, causing Clarke to shrivel up as if she were one of the many lifeless faces. 'You did this.'_

_And then she was the grim reaper, planning to take the life of her next victim. The commander of death. Hands reaching out to grab the souls of the innocent  - her father, Wells, a random stranger, an agent. Each and every spirit taken forcefully. Her strength weakened with each life she took, yet her body wouldn't stop. They screamed her name each time, a vague sound in the back of Clarke's mind. Her friends were next, confusion written on their faces as she hovered towards them. The floor morphing into a bottomless pit that with the power of some unknown force - they didn't fall into. She killed each of them mercilessly; Raven,_  
_Octavia, Monty, whilst her heart was yelling for her to stop._

_She left a trail of bodies, gliding through the air like a cloud - although she looked gentle, feet barely off the ground; she had the potential to start a storm. The faces didn't matter anymore. They all looked the same - familiar or not - and it became a mission to slaughter each person she passed. Then there was her mother. Standing with her dull, brown hair, her sunken cheeks. Her eyes showed nothing - the only sign of emotion from the false smile etched onto her face._

_Clarke felt a stroke of anger as she latched onto her throat, lifting her off the ground (or what was once the ground) and applying pressure. Both thumbs pushed into her skin - though Clarke couldn't feel it - blocking the air from getting to her lungs. Abby tried to pry her fingers away, her legs kicking, attempting to set herself free. She only squeezed tighter, watching the life that was hardly there drain from her eyes. She tried with everything left inside of her to get oxygen, but the whites of Clarke's knuckles proved that wasn't possible._

_Her mother fell limp and Clarke dropped her to the ground, watching as she sagged onto what was now a layer of soil. Insects crept out from beneath her, crawling onto her face and feasting on her eyes. They wriggled their way into each orifice and Clarke stepped back as her mother's body quickly began to decompose. And when all of her flesh had disappeared leaving a layer of torn muscle and bones; she was dragged into the soil, slowly becoming the earth itself as Clarke stood patiently, watching the remnants of her mother fade away._

_She shuddered at the sickening laugh coming from deep inside her chest and hated the way the corners of her mouth lifted. She was a monster in the shape of a human, her mind a weapon as much as her hands. Her instincts screamed, kill, kill, kill. Everything in her path was obliterated. She searched for a self destruct button, looking down at the blood on her hands - weighing them down like rocks. The dead haunted her, drifting closer and circling around her body. She yelled out, her breath turning into mist - evaporating in the air and dripping to the ground like water from a faucet. No sound came from her mouth as she hollered into nothingness, watching as they floated inches above the floor like the faces in the blood._

Clarke woke up with a start, placing a hand over her chest and sitting up in the tangle of sheets. Blonde locks were sticking to her neck, her back slick with sweat as she tried to control the rhythm of her heart hammering against her chest. The image of her mother was seared into her brain, and guilt coursed through her. Her nightmare was hardly something her mind had created...it was the truth. She was a murderer. She had _murdered_ people. Agents, criminals...it didn't matter. No wonder they named her _Wanheda_. And the image of her savagely choking her mother, so vivid and real, it rattled Clarke. She felt the sudden need to speak with her, but saw that the clock read _04:13._ If Abby wasn't working, she needed sleep.

It would've been a surprise if she wasn't, as she worked hours on end. It was to be expected for a doctor, especially one of her mothers status as the best surgeon in Polis. Her endless amount of working was one of the reasons that Clarke hardly saw her mother, and of course because of Jake. Her precious father who died doing something to help Polis, only to have his wife and the government disagree with him. She pushed those thoughts away quickly.

Clarke stood up from the bed, scanning the room to see her _Wanheda_ outfit hanging from the bedroom door. She'd need that later on. For now she opted for a shower to calm her racing thoughts and relax her muscles. She made sure to keep her stitches from the water, knowing that it hadn't been forty eight hours and she wanted to be cautious. She stroked her hair back underneath the hot water, bordering on boiling, feeling the weight on her shoulders lessen slightly. She felt the need to scrub her hands, remembering the blood that coated them in her dream. And the way they had gripped her mothers throat, a grip that only meant one thing...death.

Death followed Clarke wherever she went, it was like a virus clinging to her, passing onto everyone she touched. Whether it was a blessing or a curse, she didn't know. Because after all; _Wanheda_ wouldn't be the commander of death if there was no death involved. And with no _Wanheda_ , the justice in Polis was close to nothing.

Trikru once had systems that were efficient, ' _jus drein, jus daun'_ was one of their commonly known sayings _._ It was then changed to ' _jus nou drein jus daun_ ' and the crime rate soared. Clarke didn't fully agree with blood shed being the answer for everything - she tried to prevent herself from killing the people she faced. Yet...Trikru had been lacking. They were no longer so feared and their agents were almost amateur. She knew the few people that could get a job done; the agent she faced last week for one, but there weren't many. They were almost like Azgeda once... _almost_. Now that was gone.

Clarke finished up in the shower, scrubbing her hair and body almost vigorously, trying to wash away the feel of death on her skin. She'd never quite get that luxury.

She didn't get herself involved with many people. Well, she at least tried to not do that. Yet somehow she found that her friend circle was growing bigger. Friends of friends of partners of friends. It was a continuous cycle. She thought of the way she killed each of them in her dream and knew the chances of that happening were high. What with her being _Wanheda_ , the past she had, the people she had dealt with and the people she was dealing with. It was dangerous to befriend somebody like Clarke Griffin, as dangerous as it was to befriend _Wanheda_. Two identities that were truly one. Clarke was _Wanheda_ and _Wanheda_ was Clarke. There was no separation. Apart from the appearance and the fact that Miss Griffin didn't run about her classroom striking her students.

She dried her body and thought of the skin of her mother crumbling at her feet. She dried her hair and thought of the brown—almost black—curls of Bellamy Blake as she slit his throat. She dressed and thought of the torn clothes of Jasper Jordan as she slashed through his chest. She stepped out of the door into humid air and remembered the way she suffocated Harper McIntyre with her own sleeve. The sounds of the street brought images of a knife sliding into the ear of Wells Jaha and her father...the breath taken from his lungs and replaced by ice cold water as she submerged his head into the lake of a forgotten forest - for most people.

She'd never forget the bloodied snow that her boots sank into, the rustle of the leaves in the bitter breeze and- and her fathers glazed eyes as he lie next to the lake. The rise and fall of his chest nonexistent, the mist his breath created from the cold weather: gone without a single trace of carbon for hours.

\---

Lexa never fidgeted. _Ever_. So when her right foot tapped against the pristine floor of Weather Tech, a quick rhythm that drove the agents surrounding her insane; she second guessed her leadership of the nights mission. She wasn't anxious, just impatient. That's what she tried to convince herself anyway.

 _Wanheda_ could've turned up at any given minute and Agent Woods found it difficult to hide her anticipation. She was stressed and...she had to admit to herself that she was slightly nervous. It had been a long time since she had been out on the field and Lexa wasn't sure on how she was going to face _Wanheda_. She was almost unpredictable and from what she'd heard (even from Anya, somebody she knew could intimidate even the strongest of people) the woman was a great fighter- no, she was vigilant- prepared...good at what she did.

"Commander." She turned around at the name, being faced by one of the agents assigned to the same floor as her. She made some arrangements and switched people around slightly, to the annoyance of Pike, and he was one of the men she wanted on the top floor. "There has yet to be any sightings of the vigilante."

She nodded, turning back towards the wall as a sign of dismissal. Commander...it had been a while since she'd heard anybody address her by that. Her father had the honour of the title, a name that wasn't meant for Lexa. She denied the position of commander.

She was young when her father passed away and couldn't have taken the title of 'Heda' even if she wanted to. The right was given to her when she came of age, when she had graduated college and finished her full line of training. But she said no to the confusion of almost everybody. She was fit for leadership - born for it, she still had it even if she didn't want it. Pike relied on her whether he liked it or not, her people- no, not her people- the agents...they followed her. Pike wasn't the commander although it seemed that way. In fact; there was no official head of the COI. Pike definitely had high authority but the slot for 'Heda' was open. Eventually somebody would take that place and the majority wanted it to be Lexa.

Anya, Indra, Titus - one of her lifelong teachers - Gustus and the numbers of others. It seemed those that followed the ways of her father (the less restricted and more repulsive ways) pined for her. Those that followed Pike were leant more towards, in some aspects, the ways of the government. There were few who had the chance at becoming 'Heda' and it would have to be decided soon. Trikru's policies relied on a commander, even if their ways had changed. Some thought the paths Pike followed plagued the way of the COI, Lexa didn't know where she stood on the matter, it was a difficult subject considering her father was the polar opposite of the man. It would be wrong to have a biased opinion, especially with something so important.

"Agent Woods, we have movement on the roof of the adjacent building." She turned abruptly, her jaw tightened and her eyes as sharp as knives. She stepped towards the window as the agent who had informed her followed. He was called Nyko, Lexa had known him for a long time. He was there for medical reasons, Lexa wanted her... _no-_ the agents to be safe.

"Let the others know and stand guard. We don't know what floor she'll make her move," she spoke over her shoulder, hearing a quiet sound of confirmation and his footsteps as he retreated towards the cluster of agents. She spied a shadow, a black figure, skittering across the top of the building next to them, her fluid movements a resemblance of flowing water. Soft yet deadly. Lexa reached for her radio, bringing it to her mouth without removing her eyes from the woman. "All units stay on their designated floors unless called for help."

The minutes past as _Wanheda_ stayed put, almost as if she knew they were there. She was resting on the edge of the roof; her feet threatening to pull her down as they dangled towards the road below. She looked almost peaceful, like a flower amongst a meadow or a cloud drifting across the sky. But Lexa knew what she was capable of so instead saw a thunder cloud ready to strike. She did, eventually. In a split second she disappeared, any sign of her gone. Until a deafening smash sounded from far off, maybe three floors down, four?

" _Wanheda is in the building, the seventy-ninth floor_." She heard a crackle from the device in her hand, and brought it to her ear. There were eighty-six floors all together, excluding the roof, so her guess was close to accurate.

"Illian, do you copy?" She asked with a calm about her voice, hearing nothing but the babble of agents around her.

" _Wanheda, she's here...she-_ " he stopped talking, his voice now a distant sound echoing in her brain.

"Illian," there was no response, "what's happening?" She felt a streak of worry run through her and almost urgently turned towards the seven people stood in the open space of the hallway.

"Barricade the stairs, block the elevators and watch the windows. Make sure that _Wanheda_ stays on the floor she's on and that floor only," Lexa demanded, pushing her red scarf behind her legs as she strode towards the elevator. "Nyko, Indra, with me. The rest of you stay put."

The two followed willingly, not saying a word in protest. They stood shoulder to shoulder in the space they were given and descended way too slowly. The lights were dim and Lexa felt no hesitation when the door opened and revealed the seventy-ninth floor. She walked out, looking either side of her and making her way towards the broken window. After a few turns and awkward routes they found it, the agents surrounding it no longer standing but instead slumped on the ground like bags of dirt. She felt for the pulse of the closest person to her, and then spotted the empty grenades and the faint red gas lingering above the ground. "They're unconscious," Indra muttered beside her, scanning her eyes across the room.

" _Wanheda_ must be close," she looked for any indication of which direction _Wanheda_ could have chosen; a foot print, a disheveled plant - although that could've been from somebody's fall. The wind made an eerie sound through the jagged hole in the window and Lexa felt the urge to find some blood for testing. That would've helped uncover who the mysterious redhead was.

"Commander," Nyko halted his movement, where he was once searching for any signs of _Wanheda_ , he was now standing with his legs bent slightly and head tilting to listen out for some unknown sound. Then she heard it. A vague shuffling of equipment being pushed about. "I think that's her."

Lexa gave him an appreciative nod and warily set out towards the noise, making no sound apart from the metal on her uniform. Trikru didn't dress in casual gear, the majority didn't (some chose to wear what one would associate to a guard or officer) and Lexa was one of them. It looked almost like she was wearing a button up dress but instead a fitted coat that reached past her jean clad thighs. There were a lot of straps and buckles that held  things together, and protective armour across her chest and abdomen. Her gloves and boots were both a fine, thick leather - though she didn't look too out of the ordinary. Just...intimidating. That was the goal. She had a gun and dagger resting either side of her belt and of course the radio in her hand.

The shuffling about of objects was prominent now and Lexa almost scolded _Wanheda_ for being so obvious. But she reminded herself that the vigilantes lack of thought was what was leading her to whatever business she had with the damn Weather Men. Not to be mistaken with the guys that told the weather; they had nothing to do with it.

" _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck_! _I can't find it_." Lexa almost jumped at the loud voice coming from a room to the left, the woman had such a guarded tongue.

They neared the door and Lexa slipped the radio into her belt, replacing it with the gun. She had a stance that resembled Nyko's, Indra's was less spread out and more stiff. "Ready," she whispered quietly. _Ai ste yuj._

"In three," _ai ste yuj._

"Two," _ai ste yuj._

"one-"

The door swung open before they could make a move, causing Lexa to react quickly and grasp ahold of the person in front of her. _Wanheda_ stumbled back and shook herself from Lexa's grasp easily, slipping around her and jogging off down the corridor before any of them could react. Lexa barely had a chance to see her, just a flash of red and black clothing. They ran after her as Lexa cursed to herself. What gave them away, or did _Wanheda_ have some type of superpower? Did she even hear them? She grabbed for the radio again, speaking into it without her voice wavering despite their pace, " _Wanheda_ made an appearance, she's still on the seventy-ninth floor as assumed."

Some of the halls were wide whereas others closed in on Lexa like they were really moving. They could no longer hear or see the Vigilante, and Lexa felt vulnerable, like a deer in the middle of a clearing with a lion about. "Heda- Agent Woods, she may have headed towards the elevator," Indra covered her mistake, her voice shaking slightly with the rhythm of her feet. Heda - although just a translation of Commander - was much more powerful. Personal, even.

"Possibly, there's one just around this corner." Lexa had mapped out the entire building, not forgetting the roof for if they needed it, and knew exactly where each exit was. Indra was right, the light indicating which floor the elevator was on was slowly rising, stopping at the eighty-sixth floor, and Lexa pushed the button to the one next to it with speed. The doors opened straight away, meaning it was on their floor, and they stepped inside.

She never thought to look up, instead her eyes were trained on the silver in front of her. She was greeted by raised guns when the doors first opened but the weapons were  lowered when they realised it was her. " _Wanheda_ , did she not stop on this floor?"

"No, sh-" there was a sound behind them, and Lexa turned to see a foot disappearing into what once was the lights of the elevator. The clocks churned in her head as she realised that the first elevator was a distraction. It would've stopped and _Wanheda_ would have either been gunned down or cuffed up. Instead; she hid above them...the entire journey up seven floors. Seven floors of opportunity for Lexa to be dead. _Seven floors._

She made a move to enter the elevator again but saw that the lights were off, _Sky Girl_ had shut it down. "She's headed to the roof." Then they were off again, everything so sped up and quick, like Lexa was walking past a motorway. Seeing blurred lights of cars as they hurtled past. It wasn't like Lexa to get so lost in a mission, but _Wanheda_ was like sand slipping through her fingers. Water being poured over a sieve. How had she gotten away from that first encounter? She was right in front of Lexa's face- or maybe...maybe it was intentional. 

Lexa didn't believe that _Wanheda_ was that easy to reach. She was so obviously loud, and couldn't have thought that gassing one floor of agents would prevent others from searching for her. She came to the conclusion that it was a plan, _Sky Girl_ knew exactly what she was doing and they were falling into the trap. The roof was where _Wanheda_ was strongest. It was her territory, the dark of night an escape route, or a lure.

The air was bitter as Lexa stepped outside, and whether it was due to the circumstances or that the air was just...bitter, the agent didn't know. It was significantly colder, cooling her skin from the previous warmth she felt.

Lexa told the others to stand in a tight formation, guns raised, eyes wary. The sky was a good camouflage, especially for somebody like _Sky Girl_ , the obvious indication being that she was named after it.

A gun now had a potential target, eight guns had a potential target. The sight of _Wanheda_ stood with her jacket blowing backwards with the wind, her hair staying almost still by some unknown force, a wooden stick stretching across the length of her body. It somehow mesmerised Lexa, her stance hypnotising her as she stared at the sway of her body on the very edge of the building. She turned around, stepping closer to them, revealing her face slightly in the light. Covering  her neck and past her nose was some sort of material, and Lexa spotted the black lines (extremely black) that ran down the left side of her face, reaching below the scarf around her mouth. Her hair was as red as blood, her face stone cold and yet her body seemed relaxed. Weightless. They all just stood watching and Lexa knew she had to take some sort of action.

"Look at this, the grounders meet the sky."

\---

"So you're the one who has taken out more than three hundred of our fellow agents," the agent before her spoke with confidence, revealing the dagger at her side and twisting it in her fingers.

" _Ahah, I've found her_ ," Raven spoke from her ear, a distant reminder of why she was here. " _Agents Woods. Her father was the previous commander..._ "

"And you're one of the one's who sent them there to catch me," Clarke responded with a sly raise of her eyebrow, "Agent Woods." 

" _She should be commander...but she's not_ ," Raven continued telling facts to Clarke as she stepped a little closer to the agents.

"For good reason." If she was taken aback by Clarke knowing her name, she didn't show it. "You're a criminal, _Wanheda_. You have injured and killed people, of course we would try to stop that."

"Tell me this...has the agency never taken a life?" Now this question confused her slightly - she imagined. She tilted her head, looking at Clarke as firmly as she could from a distance.

"Only when necessary."

"Have _you_ taken a life?" She was testing the woman's patience, possibly laying her life out on the table, but she continued persisting.

"Yes."

Yes. _Yes_? What sort of answer was that?

"I've killed those that were facing justice, and I did so rightfully." Clarke scoffed internally at the sureness in her voice.

"Who are you to decide who lives and dies?" Clarke felt a silver of success as she saw Woods' eyebrows knot together to form a crease between them. The only sign of emotion on her face from that action, but she quickly relaxed them, effectively creating a neutral facade. But Clarke had seen the tiniest amount of emotion and she felt she had done something that not a lot could.

"The law...I could say the same about you. Who are _you_ to decide who lives and dies."

"The law doesn't make anything more righteous than without, if the law is...breaking a law," Clarke was smirking now, and she imagined it was showing in her eyes.

"You didn't answer my question." The iciness dripping from her words rang clearly, and Clarke felt momentarily dazed.

" _Lexa, Lexa Woods. She's twenty_ _five_ _, works along with Pike._ "

Clarke took a risk, regaining full control over herself. "Has he broken in?" She said it with the slightest amount of movement from her mouth, not that they could see.

" _Stall, just keep stalling them Wanheda_."

"I could have the same answer, or a different. We're more alike than you think; it seems we're both murderers, you an I." Clarke edged backwards slightly, feeling that the talk shouldn't last much longer.

"You can't put on a mask and name yourself the law." The woman beside Lexa, Clarke remembers called Indra, interrupted.

"I'd rather die than name myself the law," she laughed bitterly, shaking her head, "the law is corrupt. The government is corrupt. The people of Polis are just chess pieces sitting idly on a board while the council decides where to move them, what to use them for.

"I bet you're here following orders, even Agent Woods...who should be the one enforcing them."

" _Good, good Wanheda_ ," Raven sounded impressed, distracted, but nevertheless impressed. " _Keep going_."

Agent Woods stepped forwards, the others surrounding her starting to follow but with a raise of her hand, they stayed put. "What is your business with the Mountain Men, _Wanheda_?"

"I'm not even in cuffs yet and you're asking questions," she laughed to herself, shaking her head. She could see the woman properly now, her brown hair flowing loosely amongst intricate braids, her defined cheek bones...and her eyes. They were green. Extremely green. A beautiful, gentle green in contrast to her hard demeanour and Clarke felt an itch to create it with a paintbrush and her hand.

"I'm guessing that you've made consistent attacks against Weather Tech for good reason, unless you want to add some sort of amusement to your games. I can only imagine how tedious it must get having to hide your face." The agent was so incredibly close, close enough to reach out to her and bind her wrists together.

"I'm not playing games, Lexa. Just maintaining the justice of Polis, because it seems to me you're having a hard time in doing so." Clarke looked at her pointedly, smirking once again.

"Maybe we are slacking slightly as we're focused on somebody who's a large threat to the citizens of our city." The words came harshly out of her mouth and Clarke knew instantly that Lexa cared for Polis.

"Oh, I am certainly not the biggest threat."

"What is your business with Weather Tech, and Dante Wallace?" Lexa repeated, stepping even closer. Clarke looked down at the hand that was resting on her waist, watched her stance, the clenching of her jaw and her fists. She couldn't hold out for much longer.

"I'm sure you'll find out soon enough." She could see the woman slowly slipping from the fine imaginary thread, knowing it was only moments before she attacked.

"What does that mean, _Sky Girl_?" Her voice was like venom, every word barely sliding between her teeth to reach Clarke's face as a harsh breath.

"Did you come here to arrest me, or were you hoping for a nice chat?" Clarke stepped back ever so slightly, glancing behind her. "I'm afraid I can't give you either of those, so...goodbye Commander."

" _Wanheda, we're not ready_!" Raven hissed through the earpiece, slamming her hands down on supposedly the desk she was working at. Clarke ran towards the edge, turning back to see Lexa with her arms out as if she tried to grab her, before letting herself fall backwards, hurtling towards the ground at an alarming rate. She shot an arrow towards the opposite building, watching the line fly after, and swinging herself along with it.

"She was going to cuff me at any minute; her hands were resting on her belt, her shoulders were squared and her feet separated." Clarke shouted over the air that was rushing towards her. Technically, she was rushing towards the air, through the air, with the air.

" _Dammit_ ," it was Monty's turn to groan, " _we lost contact with their main frame. We were almost there_." He wasn't aiming his words at Clarke, instead just stating the facts, unlike Raven who followed up with a round of curse words and annoyance until she eventually realised that she was being stupid.

" _At least you're out in one piece, with all of your pieces_."

"Thank you for the reassurance, Ravioli." It was a catchy name that neither of them agreed on at first. It came from the time where Raven puked up half of her stomachs contents and a single piece of Italian cuisine, a dumpling wrapped in pasta dough, amongst the thick, creamy sauce it was in. It sat on her lap proudly, and when it came to picking code names, Clarke suggested that exact one.

Monty's was simpler, just Herb. At first it was Chris. It was what his parents were going to call him before they changed their minds. He did look quite like a Chris, Clarke had to say. But it never stuck and his obsession with herbs pushed Clarke and Raven to think of a name in a heated argument they had with him. It went along the lines of:

"You spilt my herbs everywhere!"

"You are the herb!"

Clarke would never forget the look on Monty's face after the two had tried making a curry, only to find that they weren't so good with random bottle lids they'd never tried before. And they effectively spilt the herbs and seasoning all over the food.

" _We are just around the corner, we're heading to the Dropship beforehand to talk things through. We've blocked off the surveillance for now but be cautious_." Clarke smiled slightly, seeing the green eyes of the commander as she crept onto the street, staying close to the walls of buildings and making her way towards the van.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Jus drein jus daun (I'm pretty sure you'll know it but...): blood must have blood
> 
> the nou added makes it: blood must not have blood
> 
> and ai ste yuj: I am strong


	4. Trikru's Red-Headed Dilemma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day in the life of Lexa, plus a meeting between professor and agent ;) 
> 
> Dante arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while...I went away a few months back (July :/) and lost the want to write this story. I knew I'd continue it but I suspected it'd take some time. 
> 
> I wasn't sure on this chapter but after some editing I am okay about it, however it's a bit slow. 
> 
> Also, I'm sorry if there's a different format, I'm not very good with the whole uploading. 
> 
> Feel free to comment on mistakes and errors or just some suggestions :D.

 

> _'Cause I don't think through things, never get time,_
> 
> _Cause I don't think things through,'_
> 
> \- Catfish and the Bottlemen.
> 
>  

   
All Lexa could think about throughout Friday night's meeting was Wanheda dropping from the building, and the flash of unexpected fear that ran through her... until she realised; that's what Wanheda did. She made as amazing of an exit as she did an entrance. Lexa was so close to catching her, so close that her hands could've reached out and tightened her hands around her wrists - forced them into cuffs. But she didn't.

Indra hounded her all the way back to the agency as Lexa had repeatedly assured her she didn't come back empty handed, and she was telling the truth. "Agent Woods. Would you please explain your actions tonight and why you didn't take the opportunity to arrest Sky Girl?"

She sighed to herself, standing up from the swivel chair that she wasn't spinning on. "If I had grabbed ahold of Wanheda in that minute, the chances of me managing to keep her secure were extremely low. The chances of me being in the hospital right next to Agent Lachman were, however...high."

"That's never held you back before," Indra walked forwards, she hardly questioned Lexa, only when she thought she was doing something wrong and she usually did everything right. Or what Indra deemed right. She had known her for all her life, Indra was a close friend of her parents and a significant part in shaping Lexa into the woman she was.

"I wouldn't have let her go if I didn't have something," she started, scanning the room. Pike stood near Wanheda's board, watching the conversation unfold. "I believe that Wanheda is not alone."

"What do you mean?" He stepped closer, a sudden interest on his face. There weren't many people in the meeting; Indra, Gustus - a man who Lexa had worked closely with for the past year - and a few agents Pike kept close. The others were outside.

"Indra, you heard Wanheda, she cursed a few times and muttered about not being able to find something. It's possible that she wasn't just muttering, but informing somebody." Lexa sat again, her back not allowing itself to slouch but instead retaining a straight posture that could convince somebody that Alan Carr wasn't gay.

"So you're suggesting that someone's helping Sky Girl?" Pike asked after a few seconds of silence, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

"Exactly that. Her attacks are always well planned out, she has information on people in seconds, for instance; she managed to name me and know that I should be commander without any time to find that information by herself," Lexa explained to nobody in particular, folding her arms across her chest, "She always manages to see an attack without even looking...and as I was in such close proximity to her, I heard a voice that wasn't her own. I have reason to believe that it was coming from her ear."

"You make a good case, Agent Woods. We'll take a deeper look but for now we need to discuss the other pressing issues." He rested his hands against the table in front of him, transporting some of his weight onto them as he looked about the room.

"Do we not need to talk with the others?" Usually the meetings on Wanheda were held with a full room, Lexa found it odd that it was only a few of them.

"That won't be necessary."

"I'll inform them that they can leave. It's late, they should all be a long way past tired by now." Lexa watched Pike closely, feeling her own fatigue starting to get to her head. Her eyes were itching to stay shut but she wouldn't let them.

"Go ahead, we'll start the discussion once you're back." He gestured towards the exit, a subtle sign of authority; like he was granting her permission to go. She nodded, throwing a hard stare in his direction before moving towards the door. She reminded herself that she had passed on the position of Heda and that Pike had some control over her. He was, after all, the head of the division she worked for and although she didn't have a strict position of work...he was technically a higher rank.

She let the others know they weren't needed and headed back inside, pushing gently against the door to close it. "Firstly, we have to address the issue of Maya Vie," Pike started as soon as Lexa entered the room, "Wanheda attacked her last week, we need to know why."

"Do you suggest that we question her?" Indra's voice was almost bored, as flat as it usually was. She didn't often change pitch, only if she was angry and she controlled her emotions well.

"No, Indra," he shook his head, chuckling under his breath like she was a petty child suggesting they play a dangerous game. It was an act of disrespect, the obvious undermining beneath his tone. "We follow procedure and get a statement from her, there's no questioning involved, she may have just been in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"We still need to take precaution. Wanheda wouldn't have a-"

"Sky Girl is not a reliable source of who's a danger and who's not. Maya Vie has a clean record, she maintained a 3.4 GPA and has work experience in animal shelters, food banks, several charities. She showed her true potential by securing a job in as big of a company as Weather Tech and possibly just happened to be where Sky Girl chose to attack," Pike reasoned, looking down at a folder resting beside the mug of coffee that had surely turned cold in the amount of time they had been standing around the desk.

They were in a smaller room than where meetings were usually held, the walls a mix of dark grey and black. A faint glow of blue was emitted from the large holographic screen hovering above the ground - displaying tactics and plans, it was one of the darkest rooms of the building; letting in hardly any light. Especially at night. Lexa thought on Pike's words, something didn't seem right about judging Maya on her past education.

"I'm not suggesting that she's guilty. We just need to be cautious." Indra was pushing the boundaries slightly but remained with her chin raised high and her arms locked in a guarded position in front of her body.

"I appreciate your concern, Agent Porter," Pike ended the debate with a false smile, looking across the spread of information on the table. "We'll send somebody to speak with Miss Vie, and then there's Wallace." He was thinking again, scanning each individual until his eyes focused on Lexa and stayed there. A silent agreement was passed between them and Agent Woods knew that she was the one handling the CEO of one of Polis' largest companies. "Tomorrow afternoon at four o'clock, he agreed to discuss our predicament with the famous Vigilante in his office."

She nodded in return but didn't let her concerns go unnoticed, "Is Dante Wallace somebody we can trust? There have been numerous accounts where Weather Tech has faced claims of fraud and scamming."

"It's in his best interests to rid himself of Sky Girl," Pike responded with a sigh, running his hand across his forehead.

"Maybe, but there's something Wanheda wants from them, whether that be; vengeance or justice-"

"Or some people to toy with." The conversation went back and forth between them, a meaningless argument that wouldn't help them in any way but to complicate the situation.

"Wanheda has thought through her attacks on Weather Tech, she was trying to find something. Why would she j-"

"This is no longer up for debate. We need a statement from Mr Wallace and one from Miss Vie. Both have experienced the brunt of Sky Girl's attacks and both are - until further investigated - innocent." A silence followed, confirming that the discussion was, truly, over. "Is that clear?" Lexa nodded her head along with Indra, the other agents choosing to stay still. "You're welcome to leave."

Lexa complied happily, muttering a quick goodbye whilst exiting the room, hearing Pike's question to Mrs Green, asking her to interview Maya. Indra left closely behind, Lexa noted, with a haste about her steps. "I expect I'll see you tomorrow Agent Porter, that's if you're in the office."

"I won't be, but good luck with Wallace," she scowled at the feel of his name on her tongue and threw a curt nod in Lexa's direction before rushing off down the corridor. She watched her retreating figure as she headed towards the elevator.

It was just past midnight, earlier than she had thought but later than she had hoped. Pike would expect her to come in to discuss a plan, despite his vagueness, and she'd of course have to stop by the coffee shop after her morning run. Tomorrow would be a long day, especially with little sleep.

The air had cooled by the time she reached her car, her muscles were still tense. She believed the rigidness would never leave her shoulders, her mind and body couldn't bring themselves to relax. Not with a criminal on the loose, a criminal that she had to stop. A woman who caused destruction wherever she stepped.

The inside of the car was just as cool, something Lexa didn't mind and yet she found herself switching on the heater after igniting the engine. She paid close attention to the passing vehicles as she drove, their headlights distant blurs rushing off to different places. She thought she caught a flash of red, moving smoothly against the wind atop a building. Lexa's eyes were deceiving her, the crazed determination to catch Wanheda was getting to her head. She had to stop overthinking, preventing and controlling crime was what she did...thinking about a criminal too often was something she didn't do. Getting worked up over a case was pointless in Lexa's opinion.

The road was busier than she had anticipated but it didn't take her long to reach her apartment. The silence of the complex was almost threatening, forcing Lexa to walk lightly as not to make any sudden noise. It wasn't necessary, the walls of the building were thick but her instincts wouldn't allow her to take up her normal stride. She wasn't expecting the TV to be on when she walked inside her door, nor was she expecting Lincoln to be lying on the sofa with the phone to his ear and a grin on his face. "Oh, Lexa, you're back."

"It seems I am." She slipped off her jacket, hanging it up by the door before doing the same with her boots.

"She's my roommate, you sound jealous," he laughed heartily, sitting up so he could view Lexa standing by the door.

"Tell her she has nothing to worry about." She threw a wink in Lincolns direction, hearing him repeat her words. "Also, ask her if she has any single friends."

She disappeared into the kitchen after that, warming up some food Lincoln left for her. A good five minutes passed before he sat on the kitchen island, a lovestruck glaze over his eyes that couldn't be shifted. "She does have single friends, but I doubt you'd actually be interested."

"No, I'm quite happy with my job...and freedom," she finished up her meal, placing the plate in the sink and draining the glass of water she left on the side. "How's Octavia?"

"She's great." She received a smile that could put the Cheshire Cat to shame.

"You only went on your first date last week, didn't you?" She chuckled lightly, of course Lincoln would be one to jump into a relationship so quickly, there was nothing holding him back so it was only natural.

"Actually, it was our second date," he defended, gaining a scoff from Lexa in response.

"You count helping her to her door a date?"

"Yes, I do."

"Good luck with that, Lincoln," Lexa crossed her legs over one another.

"Is it okay if Octavia and a few of her friends come over for a few drinks tomorrow?" The question came out rushed, revealing the notion that he was nervous to ask.

"Okay, I won't be back until maybe six, seven." She wasn't keen on masses of people coming into her home, what with her job and the risks it had. But she trusted Lincoln, and that was a hard thing to come by.

"Thank you, I really do owe you." He gave her an appreciative hug and she welcomed it warmly.

"You don't owe me anything, Linc." She turned towards the door, shaking her head, "I might catch you in the morning, I've got an interview at four tomorrow."

"Alright, the guys will be here when you get back." He pushed himself off the side, standing taller than her.

"That's fine, don't have too much to drink because you'll regret it in the morning, Mr Lightweight." Lexa laughed at the middle finger he provided her in response, eventually making her way to her room.

\--

The next morning she woke as early as she usually would to go for a run. The breeze whipped at her skin as she jogged, the weather a nice mixture of sun and light winds. Lexa didn't push herself too much, keeping a consistent pace throughout the entirety of her course before stopping at the cafe for a break. She had found it around two years ago, it was both close to her work and the route she took to run in the mornings, so it was nice to stop by and get something to drink.

The room was illuminated by the wide windows that spread across both sides of the building, working well with the brown and beige layout. She stroked back her hair, feeling the need to let it breathe without being tied tightly across her scalp. So she pulled out the hairband, dragging it across the strands of brown, lighter than that of the cafe walls. She had to run her fingers through it for it to sit nicely on her head, letting it flow past her shoulders in soft waves.

She ordered a simple ice tea, feeling energised enough not to need a coffee. It was almost eight o'clock, she had plenty of time to talk to Pike, get back to her apartment and ready herself to visit Anya before she had to go to Weather Tech.

Ice tea in hand, she turned around to find a seat, feeling a time to relax was long overdue. It was better to sit down and cool off than heat herself up even more just by walking home. She started heading towards a seat until she saw a flash of yellow and felt a body collide with her own, forcing Lexa to move her drink back in an an attempt to stop it from spilling, reaching out with her other hand to steady herself. She latched onto a table that luckily had nothing on it.

The person moved their arm back in response, placing a protective palm over it as they stepped back. And then she looked up into vibrant blue. A colour she recognised yet...something she'd never seen before. She had definitely never seen eyes of that shade and tone, yet they seemed familiar. The blonde before her stepped back slightly, mouth agape. "Are you okay?"

The woman continued staring, her eyebrows knitted together in surprise. It seemed like a century before a look of realisation crossed her face and she closed her mouth quickly, shaking her head. "Yeah...uh- I'm sorry."

Lexa waited for a minute, taking a sip of her drink to clear her throat. It felt as dry as the Sahara desert. "Do I recognise you from somewhere?" The question was stupid and she didn't give much thought to it, which was very unlike Lexa.

"Maybe, I'm...uh- Clarke Griffin." The woman seemed hesitant with the response but otherwise didn't act uncomfortable, just, taken aback?

"Oh...Clarke Griffin, art professor right?" That's why she seemed so familiar, Lexa had seen images of her in the newspaper, online. She could feel the empty words in the air - you're the one who's dad died because of the government.

"Yeah, that's me." Her blue eyes watched Lexa warily, dancing between each of her green ones.

"Did I hurt your arm?" She let her eyes flicker down, taking in the way the woman held her arm stiffly by her side. Clarke stroked the soft material of her blouse, tracing her fingers across her arm in a pattern Lexa imagined would look like a masterpiece on paper.

"No, it's fine." She tugged her sleeve down despite it already reaching past her wrist, folding her arms across her chest. Lexa followed her movements with her eyes, quickly averting them when she realised where they had landed.

"I'm going to take a seat now, have a good day Miss Griffin." She spun on her heel, acknowledging the quiet 'bye' from the blonde. She watched Clarke as she ordered something to drink, not missing the keen eyes of the barista as he took her order, his eyes glancing down more than Lexa could've imagined. She had done the exact same, but it was purely by accident and she had looked away as quickly as she could. He had tried hitting on Lexa months ago and of course it didn't work.

Her tea was half finished when a girl she recognised as Lincolns girlfriend(?) entered the cafe, draping her arm across Clarke's shoulder as she walked away from the counter. She didn't jump as Lexa had expected but instead rolled her eyes, pointing to her cup. Lexa could see a line of numbers written on the side, rolling her eyes too. She had only met Octavia once, no twice, from two out of the five times her and Lincoln had hung out. Only one of those times was made an official date, which shocked her slightly. "Oh, Lexa!" She was snapped out of her daze by her name being called.

"Octavia, hey." She glanced at Clarke again, seeing the woman almost studying her, eyes not wavering when they met Lexa's.

"Lincoln told me we might be at the apartment when you get back. You have a meeting or something?" Octavia asked, giving Lexa a hesitant smile.

"I do have a meeting."

"What's it for?" She knew the question was only a polite gesture, showing interest in what she did with her life, but it felt a bit intrusive. She hardly knew the girl, and she wasn't one hundred percent sure on whether she could trust her. Lincoln's judgement just didn't seem enough, especially when concerning a potential relationship. Love was blinding, weakness even.

"Just something for work." She gave a tight lipped smile, hoping it would convince Octavia she wasn't being rude. She just wasn't sure how much the public was allowed to know about what the organisation did, she wasn't even sure if Octavia knew about her job. It seemed to please the girl as she didn't dwell too much on the forced curve of her mouth.

"It's with Dante Wallace, right?" Dammit, Lincoln.

"Yes." She noticed the raise of Clarke's eyebrows, a flash of surprise on her face. "It's nothing big."

"Dante Wallace? Are you a reporter or something?" Clarke asked after a few seconds of silence, a hint of a smirk on her face. Lexa didn't really know how to answer the question, no? I'm actually an agent, though I'm not sure if you're meant to know this because it's quite a 'down-low' organisation. They usually told people they worked for the FBI, with fake badges to flash when needed. But that seemed inappropriate.

"No, it's not really an interview, more like him giving a statement." She eyed the women before her, taking in their reactions. Both seemed like it was information they already knew, and Lexa wondered how much Lincoln had told Octavia and if she had told that to her friends. It was dangerous and she was starting to wonder if she should've been more cautious with inviting a stampede of strangers into her home.

"Well, good luck with that, Dante Wallace is...isn't the easiest person to speak with." Lexa tilted her head to the side, wondering how Clarke Griffin managed to talk with Wallace. She picked up on her question without it being spoken, "He's an artist, I've met him a few times."

"The meeting is in his best interests so I'm sure it'll be fine." Lexa felt uneasy around the woman, whether it was how attractive she was or something else, she felt a ripple of distrust run through her. She'd have to be careful. Lexa noticed Clarke glancing at her phone thoughtfully, before she focused on Octavia muttering something about Lincoln.

"Right, well I've got to go. Have a class to get to." She hugged Octavia, giving Lexa a wave before leaving the cafe without so much as a glance back.

"That's my cue. I'll see you later Lexa," Octavia said quietly, glancing around at the few people sat drinking coffees and chatting amongst themselves.

"Bye, Octavia," she watched as the brunette followed the footsteps of Clarke, heading towards what she assumed was her car. She wasn't looking forward to getting home that night and she wasn't sure why.

\--

The Weather Tech building stood towering over her, a gloomy look about it. Lexa took a deep breath and moved towards the door, swallowing down any anxiousness she felt - not that it was much. She was directed towards one of the lowest floors and memories of the night before flashed across her mind.

Lexa had never spoken with Mr Wallace, she never imagined she would. She had seen him in the flesh, tracked his movements once, but they'd never spoken. But now, outside his office door, she felt nothing. Isn't talking to a multi-millionaire meant to be something to be excited for? And yet she felt nothing.

Two knocks on the door with a six second interval before he welcomed her inside his office, a queer look about his face. It was either a smile or a grimace. He looked older than she remembered, the few extra wrinkles that didn't show on the internet were showing now, and his hair looked whiter than it looked grey. "Agent Woods, welcome." His voice trembled, giving the illusion that he was scared. Lexa had heard him speaking in interviews or for the press, so his voice wasn't unnatural to her - he had a slight shake to it. "I'm sorry there are no outstanding views, I believe high floors are useless - who wants to make a journey up seventy floors just to see some extra building tops?"

"Mr Wallace." His palm was cold as it entrapped her own, and she finished the handshake as quickly as it started.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" He took a seat in the leather chair that resided behind his desk, gesturing for Lexa to sit. She scanned the room, taking in the dull look about it. The only things that brightened it up were the few paintings hanging from the walls. "Would you like a beverage, tea or coffee perhaps?"

She shook her head, taking another glance at her surroundings; looking for anything out of the ordinary. "I'm here on behalf of the COI, as you already know," she sat down, placing the folder that was shoved securely beneath her arm onto the surface in front of her. "Concerning Wanheda."

"Right, as I expected." He crossed one leg over the other, watching her expectantly. "Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, I am aware that the COI isn't fond of Weather Tech, and that you most likely would rather be somewhere else r-"

"I'm here on business, not for a discussion on the differences between us. Can we please talk about the vigilante?" Dante regarded her for a few seconds, watching Lexa's movements warily.

"Right, right. Let's get started then," he nodded his head in understanding, changing the position of his arms so that his fingers brushed against the desk like littered leaves scattering away from the wind. "Sky Girl has been targeting my company for a long time now and many of my staff have risked their lives by just working here."

"That's why I'm here. Do you have any idea on why Wanheda might wish to make these attacks?" She rested a notebook on her knee, her pen poised to take notes.

"Well...no. If I did I would've stopped her by now. The amount of windows we've had to repair, she really makes a lot of mess." He chuckled roughly, not receiving the slightest sign of amusement from Lexa. "We found traces of a breach in our computer system. She was trying to hack into our servers to delete data."

"What was the data for?" She didn't prod at him lightly, she was there for information and beating around the question wasn't a way to earn that.

"Useless things, on some old projects; succeeded or failed. I have no idea what business she had with them, though there was one concerning factor." There was something about the way his head cocked to the side like a pigeons, how his lips folded inwards in a thin line. He seemed untrustworthy, and Lexa wasn't sure whether or not he was giving honest answers. "She managed to grasp quite an important project that we never finalised. It was tested and proved a danger so we destroyed it immediately."

Lexa couldn't allow herself to believe that Dante Wallace would just scrap a project because it was, dangerous. And neither could she believe that his son would be happy with that if his reputation preceded him. "What was the project? What was its purpose?"

"It was designed to protect somebody from mass amounts of radiation but instead ended up guiding that radiation towards the subject, which at the time was a mannequin.

"We made sure that any models of the project were destroyed but the design plans were saved along with our other failed plans. You could view it as a way to keep record if you like, though it's mainly to remind my son that it's not the end of the world if you don't succeed with every idea you have." He seemed so calm, his voice so sure it could convince anybody that he was being honest...but not Lexa.

She didn't believe he was outright lying to her, but neither did she believe everything he was saying was true. And the image of Cage Wallace having a tantrum over a project his father was inclined on scrapping made Lexa shudder slightly; the man was in his thirties at least.

"What could she do with these plans? Could she redesign the model?" Possible threat? Weaponised radiation.

"It would take a lot of figuring out - quite some time - but it's possible." He followed the movements of the pen in her hand as she wrote.

"What did the design look like?"

"It was almost like a tanning bed, though it had a glass dome like front where you could see inside." He shuffled about with some papers beneath his desk, eventually finding what he was looking for and placing it before Lexa.

"How would that protect somebody from radiation?" She quirked an eyebrow, staring at him questionably.

"Well as I said, Agent Woods, it was a developing project. The model was for testing purposes only." It was clear he had caught onto her suspicion. She pondered the answer for a minute before continuing, this wasn't a place to evaluate Dante's motives. She was here for information about Wanheda - not the man himself.

"Would she be able to make it into some kind of weapon, a portable weapon that she could carry with her?" She scanned the picture he set down in front of her, grimacing at the sinister look about it. Of course Weather Tech could design something so threatening.

Wallace leaned back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling in thought, "There's a chance, if she was an expert in mechanical engineering or knew somebody who could do it for her."

"Is there anything else she managed to get hold of, did she delete any files or..?"

"Not that we know of, we tried to trace the code back to a computer but their defences were remarkable, there was no hope in finding where the source was." She wondered how he possibly knew that it was Wanheda if they couldn't trace it back to her, but then she realised there was nothing to trace it back to, and that there was nobody else who possibly would know information about this. Wanheda was in the building.

She wanted to ask about the seventy-ninth floor, about Maya Vie and whether Wanheda would need somebody else to hack into their systems, but she didn't. Lexa couldn't find the trust in Mr Wallace, his son, his company and all that he stood for. There was something holding her back, and she wasn't even sure she trusted his statement. "Thank you Mr Wallace, if that's all, I'll be going."

"Are you sure you don't want a beverage, you haven't been here for ten minutes." She considered his offer, skimming her eyes across the room once again. She could learn something by staying a while longer, though, so could he. But what was there to learn of Agent Woods? Her conclusion was; not much. And she had lacked a coffee in the morning due to her surge of energy, but now that energy was close to nonexistent.

"If you insist, I would take a black coffee," she said with a sight smile, avoiding seeming too emotionless. She watched as he called for somebody over the phone, and not minutes later she was served her drink as he was.

"Oh, I almost forgot. I should've offered my condolences as soon as you walked in; I heard you lost an agent last week?" His words were laced with concern, false concern or not - Lexa didn't know.

"We didn't lose an agent, but several were hospitalised after Wanheda's attack," Lexa gave a tight lipped smile, holding back a grimace.

"I hope they recover quickly, send them my regards." His words sparked a thought in Lexa's mind: the Lannister's send their regards. Of course Wallace wasn't planning to kill her agents- no, colleagues, but there was something to his voice.

Lexa mentally shook her head, she was being paranoid, extremely paranoid. Everything the man did or said she questioned. The interview continued in the same manner, occasionally Lexa allowed herself to ask a question, making sure they revolved around the topic of Wanheda and not the man himself. Dante answered each of them in an annoyingly content way; showing no suspicion or signs of dishonesty. She found her patience dwindling and felt she'd wasted her time.

Lexa suddenly placed her mug on Dante's desk, gazing at the black ring that marked the bottom of it. "Thank you very much for your time, Mr Wallace. But I'm afraid I must leave."

She leant against the dark oak, pushing her chair backwards before standing up and straightening out her clothes. "It was a pleasure! I hope you succeed in your hunt for Sky Girl."

She smiled politely in his direction, scooting her chair back to its place, aligned with the mans desk and the rug behind it. She imagined he spent his time measuring out the distance between the two, and felt a slight grin rising at the thought of ruining his aesthetic. "I'm sure I'll see you soon, Mr Wallace. Have a good evening."

"Likewise, Agent Woods." He followed her to the door of his office, an untrustworthy smile painting his face. "Hopefully another meeting won't entail. I'm sure you'll bring Sky Girl to justice and soon."

She nodded appreciatively and left without a second glance. Everything about that meeting was wrong. She didn't trust a single word he said, and there was not much she could do about it. The man was a victim by law, a witness, somebody who could offer vital information for their cause. And yet Lexa didn't want to use it.


End file.
